To Free a Captor
by The Thought Catalyst
Summary: Beginning summary: Saphira is captured by Murtagh and Thorn. Thorn asks her to help him and his Rider be freed. How do they do it? Somewhere after Brisingr onwards. Somewhat like "Captivate" by PerfectTen, no copying intended. Possible T/S. R&R please!
1. Held by an Ally

Of course, the disclaimer. I DO NOT OWN THE INHERITANCE CYCLE, OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. IF I DID, YOU WOULD SEE A _LOT _OF STRANGE, STRANGE THINGS HAPPENING IN ALAGAESIA. IF IT WAS STILL CALLED ALAGAESIA…THERE, I SAID IT. NOW I WON'T SAY IT ANYMORE.

Here Saphira was, in a large, dark room. A cave, she assumed.

The gaping entrance looked large enough to fit several dragons, yet was hidden by several trees. The sky was a weary orange, yearning to darken in a few more hours. The sun dug deeply into the forest horizon.

She proceeded to stand and walk towards the hole, only to find a black, rusty chain encircling her right thigh. She tugged on it, expecting it to break instantly with her strength, yet nothing happened. Its corroded and scratched appearance betrayed its sturdiness; it would not give even with her fire and claws. She began to get worried.

_Eragon? _

No response. She looked around, but the darkness left her oblivious to anything of interest in the cave.

_Eragon!_

Still nothing. She was not even aware of his feelings.

Another presence came into her field of telepathy. It was…familiar, at least. One she had not sensed as much as she was now in over a decade. _He is not here._ The consciousness resided within the left side of the cave. Saphira caught a glimpse of red as its body shifted, then disappeared once again into the shadows. Thorn.

_Blood-scale, we meet again._

_Not in the circumstances we both expected, Water-scale, but our paths converge nonetheless._

She growled. _Where are we? Why are we held captive?_

_We have not drugged you enough to make you forget our status, Water-scale. Know that only you are held captive, and I am your captor. We are in a cave west of Dras-leona._

_Let me free, friend._

_I cannot. Recall the situation._

Try as she could, she only found brief flashes of memories. Why could she not find anything? _What have you done to my mind, Blood-scale?_

Thorn sighed. _You recall nothing? That venom was more potent than we expected. I am controlled by Galbatorix. He ordered me to capture you and your rider, yet Eragon escaped._

Saphira shook the chain vigorously as she lashed her tail in Thorn's general direction.

_Why would you serve him, Blood-scale? Do you not care of the decades he had kept us within his castle? Do you not care of the decades we were in our eggs, with none to talk to but each other?_

_I do not willingly do so. I still retain my hatred for him and the Empire, yet I can do nothing about it. He knows our true names, Water-scale!_

She spat fire at him, revealing the crimson dragon. _Weak! Weak you are! I would have resisted him better than you._

Thorn roared. _You are not in my position! You do not know the pain I must endure when I rebel from my oaths for you and your Rider. Speak not of this you do not understand._

_I understand it better than you believe. I have sworn my own oaths, yet I am able to defy them if I strive to do so._

_Galbatorix has been making oath-slaves for decades. Do you not think that he would be able to account for every possibility by now? What's more, none know your true name. With that information, the person could control you, even without your conscious consent. Just you see, Water-scale, just you see._ And with that, Thorn emerged from the shade and flew from the cave.

Now Saphira was alone. Now she had time with her own thoughts…yet she had little. _Venom…_She was drugged, possibly with the same served to Eragon in Gil'ead. What did he do? Saphira could not recall. Lying down once more, she attempted to contemplate her situation. Why was she held captive? She could not elucidate the answer from her mind either. Many more questions came, and she could not concentrate enough to answer them. Frustrated, she curled up and slept.


	2. The Proposition

Late afternoon it was now, with the sun very slightly poking out of the forest canopy. The rocky floor was cold under Saphira's belly. The cave was still filled with the scent of blood, now drier than usual…and another smell was in her vicinity.

Deer. A scraggly little lump of brown and white fur lay to her right. It smelled of an unfamiliar smell, one that was moist and bitter. Her mind was clear now, and she knew what it was. Eragon smelled of it after Gil'ead, and through his memories she recognized it. It was the venom.

Eragon narrated his escape to her proudly. She now remembered; Eragon had urged himself against eating, as the food and water was tainted. Yet she was so hungry…for over three days, she learned, she had been in the cave without food and unconscious. A dragon could not live with little food, but she refrained from giving in to the temptation.

After a few more hours of keeping her mind busy so as to resist eating, Thorn arrived. Her mind was perfectly unclouded, and she understood the situation.

_You have not eaten._

_The food is contaminated. Of your doing, I suppose?_

_Not willingly, but yes._

_Why, Blood-scale, have you betrayed me? We were allies once, bent on escaping when time allowed us to do so, yet now you are a slave._

_I hatched for Murtagh because he wanted to escape too. Two strong bodies and minds with the same ideas and purposes would be better than one. I did not know what would happen if I hatched then; every memory I received were empty of the knowledge of oaths. Again, I do not freely serve Galbatorix._

_Break this chain I am bound with, and the Varden shall come to free you and your Rider._

_It is not of my make. Galbatorix enchanted it himself and I do not know how to sever its links. Besides, I fear that freedom is not coming for us._

_Do not think so. A change in your true name would allow you to escape, and the elves, with combined power, are strong enough to counteract any spell Galbatorix has placed upon you and your Rider. They would more eagerly do so, for they respect dragons more than any other creature. I would know._

_As my Rider has stated, neither of us would want to change ourselves for freedom. To be free but not to be yourself would be like freeing another. Understand, Water-scale, that it is not as simple as your ideas. If a way for me to escape existed, Galbatorix would know of it. This is why…I willingly captured you. You are the one who knows me best, other than my Rider. Please, help me create a way for me to freedom._

Saphira studied his request. _And that is my purpose here?_

_Yes, in my eyes. But not in Galbatorix's. He thinks you of value for-_

_Yes,I know why…and the reason raises my suspicion. How do I know that this is not a ploy to get us closer together and eventually resurrect the dragon race, with every egg and dragon at his disposal? Galbatorix is likely to be cunning enough to come up with the idea, and it serves his purposes very well. Answer that, Blood-scale._

Thorn appeared troubled by her question. _Hmm…interesting how you are paranoid enough to suspect every action of mine Galbatorix's make. Very well_. _I shall do one deed that you ask of me, and I expect you to accept mine._

Saphira had already created one as he talked. _Hunt me a larger deer daily, free of Galbatorix's foul potions, and I will undertake your appeal. If it is untainted, then I will be able to expose every tactic Galbatorix throws at me through you, if you are lying, but still leaving my hunger satiated. Also, I assume you will help me free myself from this accursed cave. Just bring me one today. Agreed?_

_Agreed. _Thorn left once again, leaving Saphira to think of their conversation.

* * *

Another dragon was helping her…though not as much as she would like. She recalled the many days they spent communicating within their eggs, as rows upon rows of individuals came upon them and touched the eggs. Each one was still a servant of Galbatorix. Therefore, they agreed not to hatch for any one of them, even after finding a suitable Rider. It was the right action; their instinctual knowledge, as Saphira was taught, made each egg hatch during the most suitable time for the dragon race's welfare. They knew, from the thoughts of those who touched their eggs, that Galbatorix wanted to resurrect the dragons for his own purposes. Hence, if either egg was to hatch, for the green dragon was kept in a different area later on, the race would not continue as it should-free. They waited and waited, until Saphira was stolen from Galbatorix. Still, she did not hatch, for she could not find another suitable Rider. Until Eragon arrived. And now, she knew that Thorn finally hatched in hope of escape. Foolish, she thought. But could she critique the wiseness of dragon instincts? Maybe…he was made to hatch for a reason. The souls of dead dragons judge the proper time for an egg to hatch…She hatched at what she thought was the perfect time-her life was still excellent. There was just enough conflict to satisfy her needs. Then Thorn also hatched at the right time. But why now?

An hour had passed since Thorn had left. That was the average time Saphira took to hunt. And sure enough, he returned carrying a large deer within both his claws. He flung it at the entrance-just out of Saphira's reach-and landed beside it.

She struggled for a moment, stopped, and growled. _Your aim is true, yet cruel._

Thorn smiled. _A nudge is all that it would take for you to reach it, which I would be willing to do. But do you accept my request?_

_What is your proof that it is not poisoned?_

_Heat it with your fire, and smell the air. _She did so. _Notice that only the scent of roasted deer fills the cavern. If it were poisoned, the dragon's nose can sense it._

_True…I accept it._

And with that, Thorn nudged it towards her.

_Thank you. Now tell me, Blood-scale, when did you create this plan of escape?_

_When we were given the mission of capturing you._

_So, until then, you had no intentions of actually obeying Galbatorix?_

_No._

_Exactly. Do you know what that means?_

_I know not of this you speak of. Know that Galbatorix has taught us little, only of topics that would benefit us in fighting._

She exhaled through her nostrils, allowing smoke to cloud her snout for a moment. _It means that you have done something you haven't done before._

_And?_

_And you've changed. By doing something, even one that completely counteracts your purposes, your true name, your personality, changes partially._

_Yet I cannot disobey Galbatorix. And believe me; I have made many attempts to do so recently._

_This leads me to believe that he knows your new one. I suspect you are imbued with another spell which informs him of any change within your mind. I know that he cannot observe your thoughts directly without your Eldunari, but he must have guessed upon your new actions. Or did he take it?_

_If you speak of those colored live rocks he keeps giving to Murtagh before missions, then no._

_Exactly._

_So how, pray tell, do you think we can remove this curse of mine?_

_Know you little of the ancient language? Does your rider know more?_

_No. As I have already stated, we are not taught anything but battle-words._

_Then I must find a solution myself. Now be gone; I wish to start eating my deer and study your problem_

_. _

_Goodbye, then, Water-scale. I expect a solution from you at some point._

_Do not hope for one tomorrow. I cannot rush- _But then, Thorn had already left.

* * *

**Yeah, here's Chapter 2. I actually have 1 or 2 more chapters lying around, which I will only release after a few more positive reviews, but right now I just couldn't resist, lol. I actually have a strategy with this- If I release only one chapter at maximum every day and update only once at maximum every day, it will be close to the top of the "update date" list for a prolonged time. **

**If anybody finds any flaws or something, please put it in a review. Also, soon I probably will be taking requests, mainly because I'm out of ideas after I got to chapter 4. Thank you for all the positive reviews, and by "update soon," NimbusMM, I don't think you were expecting an update within a day of writing your review! I hope I didn't disappoint the readers of the previous chapter with this chapter, since the starts of my stories always seem to be the best part. **

**Lastly, keep reviewing, no matter the topic, because a simple "nice!" can motivate a writer, and saying what is good and what is bad can help the mentioned writer make his or her stories better. May the stars watch over you, miscellaneous readers of fanfictions! **


	3. The Giving of Thoughts

Thorn flew in the direction of Uru'baen with a small doe he had caught after he left, to the large platform of Galbatorix's castle, though it was no more than a regular balcony compared to the massive black structure itself. What was he to do now? He did not expect much to come this day, yet now that he left, he realized he had planned nothing else. Look for Murtagh and discuss the happenings, yes, but their link was powerful enough for him to be a few miles away from the city and still be able to share their thoughts. Even if Murtagh were there on his back now, little more time would be saved. He would have preferred so, though, because it was strange for him to encounter another mind so similar to his once again; many years had went by since he felt the presence of another dragon. A friend with him while he talked to Saphira would have been comforting. The insane, yet cunning king was still to paranoid to allow Murtagh, or any other being for that matter, to come to her. And rightly so; he knew she had no purpose to be with another but him. He was the only one who could actually do something of importance to the king with her.

But he hadn't, and had no intention of doing so. Not yet, at least. He grinned as well as a dragon could at the thought.

Instead, he chose to free himself. He was lucky that the king was patient enough to allow a long time to pass by without them disturbed. In fact, no other orders were given other than to go to her daily, and wait for time to do the rest. He did not understand what that meant, but still accepted it, knowing he would have a chance of escape.

Murtagh stood as a speck of different color on the stone-black crevice jutting out of the castle's side. Close enough to talk, a question came: _How goes it?_

_We got somewhere. She agreed, though I have to go act as some sort of caretaker for her. Bring her an untainted deer, she said. I bring to you another one as a decoy for poisoning, just to keep Galbatorix off our heels. You?_

_Nothing, really. All morning I've done nothing, and Galbatorix wants me to go practice my magic with him in a few hours. I suppose Saphira is familiar of enough of the ancient language to help us?_

Thorn did not bother questioning how he knew of their conversation; he probably just searched Thorn's mind. _Hopefully. She says so, but I can't be too sure._

Thorn landed finally, and tossed the doe to the side. He glanced at Murtagh, who was reaching into his pack while simultaneously moving towards the corpse. Thorn continued to walk into the interior of the castle, and laid down within the large indent designated for him.

Little could Saphira do to help the red dragon. Every plan she concocted always seemed to be countered by a possible spell of Galbatorix. Yes, she would relate them to Thorn in the hopes that Galbatorix was not as careful as she thought. Yes, she would continue to ponder upon his plight. But she could not crawl her way through the king's alleged cunning, and she could not underestimate him. An insane man who lived for over a century in hiding, with all the time in the world to counteract every plot against him was not the ideal enemy. She did not have much time herself, though she knew that if she was to find a solution, it was soon or never. She would not learn more of the ancient language, and had enough time to arrange her thoughts in a short span of days, if she had any useful ones.

Thinking, an ability her race was adept at, was her only escape from the truth of the situation. She was given a topic, for which she was grateful of. But now, thinking worried her. She could not produce a counter spell adequate enough to foil Galbatorix, even for the dozen hours she had been awake. She did not want to worry herself, for any negative thoughts would impede her ideas. What was her escape from thought? Sleep, she thought. Sleep was all she had done useful so far. Sleep was a way to pass the time unknowingly. And so she did again, closing her consciousness from mortal woes.

_Awake, Water-scale._

Yet another disturbance came to her, aside from the fits she had during the entire night. She had slept deficiently, and now some inconsiderate being disallowed her comfort. Still, she lifted her head from her paws, and swivelled her eyes around her crude home.

The sky was a purple blue, indicating sunrise. The sun poked out from the thousands of leaves that concealed whatever lurked beneath the horizon. Thorn stood impatiently on the tip of the cavern entrance, carrying a large deer in his mouth.

_Blood-scale, why do you come?_

_To give you your food, and to ask how the search for a solution goes._

_Ah, not well. My knowledge still refuses to yield a proper way out. My thoughts have given me something though-an idea. One that I must ask of you._

_It being?_

_I shall give you my knowledge of the Ancient Language. You and Murtagh, then, can help me. Know, though, that this will work both ways. You must give me your memories, your _thoughts, _so that I may observe them and create conclusions as to what exact spells you are imbued with. _

_My thoughts are my own, Water-scale._

_And so are mine. Yet I am willing to allow you to explore my mind, if only to escape. Escape, Thorn, isn't that what you want?_

_True…_

_Then permit it._

_Fine. _

And so, the two lowered their barriers around their minds, just enough for anyone in their close vicinity to enter their thoughts.

And what did Saphira see?

Pain. Physically, mentally, any and every other type of pain one can experience. She almost felt its intensity, if not it being a previous memory. Torture for defying the king's will…scars of battle…his mind withering from captivity…the almost complete loss of freedom…countless other forms of abuse…and for what? The survival and happiness of Murtagh, her, Eragon, and ultimately, the Varden. How independence would mean so much to him…Blood-scale had changed, more than she expected. Pity-no, not pity. A stronger sense of it welled within her deep mind, the area that was still mentally closed. What was this feeling? Gratitude, she concluded. Gratitude for the protection, the _selflessness _he had conveyed. Gratitude for continuing to do so, even with every waking day causing him worry and anguish.

_I'm sorry._

_What?_

_Your life._

_No, it is fine. Little I cannot cope with if hope exists. And it does, within freedom._

_Still, it must be horrible._

_So? Linger not in the past, tolerate the present, and wait unquestionably optimistically for the future. Fate will lead us, and every being, through the proper way of life._

_Few could sustain such hurt as you…thank you._

_It does hearten me that one more appreciates my work. Now continue to help me, and I shall be thanking you._

_Have you found enough?_

_As far as you are willing to give, yes._

_Good. _With that, they again shut their minds.

_Now I leave you to think yourself. _

And with that, she began to consume her deer, and Thorn left once again.

**Yeah, I did say, NimbusMM, that I was not gonna post until 15 reviews. But nobody was reviewing and I was already at #16 on the newly updated list. Hence, here's an update!**

**I'm gonna go for a bit of "bribery" here, if you will. 22 reviews=next chapter posted. As in, I'd like 22 reviews, including the 9 that are already there, before I submit the next chapter. Don't ask me why it's 22, it just is. :D Also, I would like you to know that reviews can make the story much better. And so does voting on my poll on my account. It'll help me understand what the PEOPLE want, and not what I want. Power to the people!**

**Thank you for all those who have reviewed, and please check out the poll on my profile! I really need it answered before I submit the next chapter. The default, though, will be 2-4 days, since I already wrote a 2-4 days one. **

**Lastly, the reviews can be about anything: A flaw within my story, a question about the plot, simply a "Good work!' or whatever else you can think of saying. Again, REVIEWS HELP A **_**LOT. **_


	4. The Plan

Yet another day, no, night, since it was not yet sunrise, did Thorn come to the cave, impatient yet respectful of the female dragon. He could not afford to lose her support, and he flew that day, once again, with food in his mouth.

He landed and entered, surprised to find Saphira awake and alert._  
Blood-scale, I know of a way!_

_  
For what?_

_  
Freedom! Last afternoon, right after you left, I looked through your thoughts. And I found something interesting._

_  
It being? _(A/N: I made Thorn say "It being?" for the second time! It just happened to be one of my most used sentences when I talked about half a year ago, and it seems to still have remained within the depths of my consciousness.)

_Every oath Galbatorix told you was not real; none of the words were of the Ancient language. I believe that he couldn't risk you knowing any more words than you were taught._

_  
He still knows our true names, though. That helps, but still does not unbind us._

_  
_Instead, Saphira asked a question, seemingly unrelated to the situation._ My Rider is still free. What do you think Galbatorix will send you to do next?_

_  
_Growing more restless, he replied swiftly.What was she implying?_ Capture him, of course._

_  
Now, which race is the most capable of using magic, other than ours?_

_  
The elves, unless I am mistaken._

_  
So would you believe that they would be able to help you?_

_  
Maybe if they could devise a spell that would take very little energy and remained hidden from the king._

_  
And what if Eragon goes to Du Weldenvarden or the elf army amassing on Ceunon?_

_  
Then I would be sent straight to them. I see where your plan is going, Water-scale, but wouldn't Galbatorix know where he was?_

_  
You know already that he cannot be scryed. I suspect that Galbatorix is only able to send you to us by casting spells upon you that will send you in the right direction. Eragon did similarly with a man before._

_  
But how can we speak to him?_

_  
I know of another variation of scrying that would allow you to not only see, but hear and talk to whatever you are scrying. Eragon's wards will prevent you from seeing him, but you can still speak to him and tell him of your intentions. He will know who you are if you happen to appear on a reflective surface, such as his mirror within his tent._

_  
That would work. But for one thing, dragons cannot scry or even use magic unless absolutely needed. Furthermore, how would we happen to be lucky enough to scry him at exactly the right moment?_

_  
That is where your Rider comes in. Galbatorix cannot risk allowing him in here, for fear we will plot against him, but you and your Rider can scry in whatever place you live. Find a reflective surface there-water, perhaps-and scry at sunrise. That is when Eragon usually awakes, unless given a mission. And from what I know, he will not be given a mission if he is in anguish. He just lost his dragon. He will most likely be staying at his tent, unless he went to some secluded area. Then we can only pray that he is only about a meter away from a shiny surface._

_  
Then we must haste! Sunrise is only to come in about a half-hour, and soon my Rider shall be called for training with Galbatorix. Farewell, Water-scale, and we shall return with your Rider!_

_  
If you are to do so, remember to fly to Feinster and progress upwards from the Spine, for we cannot allow Galbatorix to know what you two are doing. And fly swiftly, for Galbatorix will soon send guards, maybe even Shruikan, to me to prevent me from escaping while you are gone. Eragon can run fast, so the plan depends on you. Now leave. _

_  
_And she added, _Atra esterni ono thelduin, Blood-scale. _

_  
_Thorn smiled slightly._ Un du evarinya ono varda, Water-scale._

**Yay! Freedom! How long did it take? What, three days about?**

**Anyway…I give my thanks to my new Beta Reader, iPrae. The "Needing Beta Reader" status is now closed. (Forget what I said, iPrae. I make promises a lot but I don't keep most of them.)**

**See you next time, and no, I did not reach the "22 reviews" thing, but this story was on the second page and I wanted to show this to the public anyway. How do you people like it? Any questions about the plot? Seriously, leave a review about ANYTHING connected to the story. A-N-Y-T-H-I-N-G.**

**P.S. This was more of a filler chapter because….um…I felt like it. :D I actually think this is my worst chapter so far. :l I hope that didn't influence your thoughts…**


	5. Despair

Eragon sat at the tip of a cliff, with his face concealed by his arms and thighs. He lifted his head and continued to sob while staring off into whatever lurked across the eastern sea. The waves crashed upon the pale yellow beach of Feinster, with the city far off on Eragon's left. His ragged breaths came in accordance to the sea's beat, and it was unknown which was following which. Oh, the great blue surface with tinges of white, the sun behind the clouds faintly shining upon the smooth, undisturbed center…it reminded him too much of Saphira. He unclasped his arms, put them behind him, and used them to support his upper torso as he leaned back. He looked upwards, at the rocky hedge that jutted from the outcropping of rock, and cried even more so. Nothing could distract him from his beloved sapphire dragon, or rather the blurry but distinct memories of her.

He lifted his sword and sheath from the rocky cliff floor, still gleaming silver blue as his dragon's belly, and murmured the words through slight gasps, "Draumr kopa." Again, out of sheer desperation, he watched as the sheath's surface swirled with light and glowed slightly on his crimson and gold elfin tunic. Little of consequence did scrying do, for only darkness came into his field of vision. He continued to sob, now a wailing plead to whatever greater beings there may or may not be… until he saw some extra whirlpool of movement on his sheath.

**There ya go. I know it's short, but this was more of a scene change than anything else, because it's kinda weird when a story just pops up from one part of Alagaesia to another. And, that extra whirlpool of movement is sort of a cliffy, but most of you should already know what it is. :D**

**Also, I really wanted to update but I ran out of long stuff to update with. You have permission to mentally decimate me, for updating such a short chapter. And by that I mean you can go imagine whatever "The Thought Catalyst" is and beat it up with an imaginary baseball bat.**

**4 reviews per chapter-that's not bad. Though I really wanted more.**

**Again, I want to mention how much reviews mean to me. **_**Especially **_**the helpful criticism ones. Those are just about the best reviews you can give to a writer. Yes, my story is at the moment unblemished with bad reviews, which I am thankful for…though I would not mind, and actually appreciate criticism.**


	6. We Meet Again

Thorn crouched over the bowl of water his Rider, Murtagh, was carrying. The water's color swirled about, as if bright paint was spilled into it. Only a bright white came into it, followed by the black silhouette of a human's or elf's head. Thorn reasoned this was because neither of them had seen this area, and Eragon was shown in black because he was protected from being scryed. If they had seen wherever he was, the entire picture would be black.

They sighed in relief after the image twitched and turned into view fully, and a small amount of sound could be heard. "Brother?" Murtagh said expectantly.

A set of wheezes and short sobs were heard until: "Mu-Murtagh?!" It was merely a whisper, but the evident sadness, suspicion and disbelief showed the state of Eragon. As he should be, Thorn thought, after losing his dragon.

"Yes, Eragon, Thorn and me. We speak, no, plead to you for help."

"Why?! After all you have done to me-betraying me, and taking my…my…" He continued to cry once more. They were lucky they could not see him, for if they could, Thorn was sure neither of them would be able to talk to each other properly.

"Eragon! Saphira gave us a plan. We need your help. Do you agree to at least listen to us?" Murtagh's voice had a hint of anger. He, apparently, was too impatient with freedom than to listen to Eragon wail to who knows what.

"S-Saphira?" Eragon quieted down. "I long to hear her voice…I longed to hear even just her name… But why should I trust you?! You're the one who kidnapped her from me!"

"Yes, we did. But we could not stop ourselves. Galbatorix gave us an extremely large amount of power and used magic to make us go against our will. We could, and we had to. We are sorry. But through her, we can gain freedom. We captured her without attempting to stop ourselves because we knew we would gain freedom."

"So you stole her from me for your OWN benefit?! You care no more for anybody but yourselves, Murtagh! Ah, before, you helped us. You helped me. Why not now?!"

"I am helping you. Once we are free, we can return you to your dragon. I assure you, little time it will take for us to be freed. Saphira constructed a plan that was simply faultless. And remember that once we are freed, you will realize, if not now, that it will help you greatly."

"So you plan not on bringing Saphira with you. No, I cannot agree to that. Saphira comes first."

"You are being unreasonable, Eragon! There is no other way for her to be freed. Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning. And we will return her to you soon. I-"

"Soon is not enough. If I had to, I would come there and give myself up, if not for the benefit of the Varden. You lie, half-broth-"

"Vel eïnradhin iet ai Shur'tugal." Now that, Thorn thought, was impossible to counter. He knew that Murtagh meant every word he said. And he was sure Eragon did too. Now the argument was finished.

Eragon sighed.

"Very well." His Rider was pleased. He did not show it to Eragon, as he knew Eragon could see him, but he was pleased in his mind.

"But if this plan of yours fails, Murtagh, I will _destroy_ you."

"Worry not. I assure you once again: it is of your dragon's make. And you do trust your dragon. Unless I am mistaken?"

"No, you are not."

And so Murtagh narrated the full of Saphira's plan to Eragon, courtesy of Thorn's mind. Yes, he had told it to Murtagh when he got to him, but only of his excitement. Murtagh knew the entire plot the moment he came into contact.

"Yes, it does make sense. But this alleged spell of yours, that you say will defeat Galbatorix's wards, how do you intend to create it?" Eragon was skeptical, and Thorn understood why. He could not make a deal with flaws.

"Ah, that is up to you and the elves. With hundreds of great minds at your disposal, is magic still so difficult for you?"

"You will kill us if you are not freed."

"On the contrary, half-brother, we will die. Even Galbatorix would yield against such a concentration of magic users. And yes, Thorn and I will accept that risk freely, because we know we will succeed." Murtagh, in fact, was lying at that. The two would not die without a fight. But Thorn made no attempt to make Murtagh say otherwise. He knew it was necessary to convince the Blue Rider.

"In that case…I will come. But, out of curiosity, where the hell is my dragon?!"

"I cannot tell you that. If I do, you will be obliged to seek her out instead of doing the mission. Now goodbye, Eragon, half-brother, and I hope that when we cross paths once more, we are allies again." With that, Murtagh ended the scrying spell. Thorn left for the cave once more, to tell Saphira of the happenings.

***************************************************************************

Eragon stood, ready to depart. With his sword in hand, he extinguished the flame behind him which kept him warm for three days now. He looked off into the distance at Feinster, and the tents of the Varden. There was his first destination, and his second to the elves. He leapt down off the cliff, taking the fast route, and ran along the beach.

**There we go again. **** The next chapters will not update quickly, since I realized the next maybe 8 pages which I wrote on Word were gonna make the story a bit awkward. Sorry! **

**Also, due to popular demand (two people,) I changed Thorn and Murtagh's motto thingy to a quote from the bible. Look at it on my page's poll, and if you want me to change it, vote!**

**And review! Review! REVIEW!!!! It helps a lot. And thank you to all those who have reviewed. Again, 4 per chapter ain't bad, but I wanted more. Meh, I'm hoping by this chapter, I'll have enough fans for the number of reviews for this chapter increase by at least 1. But still, I can't ask for everything!**

**Now is the point I will be taking suggestions and requests. There will be no guarantee it will be accepted, but tell me anyway. **

**Again, special thanks to iPrae, my beta reader!**


	7. Firesword Comes

** (I thought of the chapter title when I was saving the document and by default it suggested the title "Firesword Comes" because it was on the top of the page. :D)**

********************************************************************  
"Firesword comes."

So proclaimed one of Nasuada's Nighthawks, an Urgal posted at the front of her pavilion.

She understood what the Urgal meant – Eragon was back. Why nobody outside cheered she did not know, but she was still grateful. Saddened by the fact that Saphira was not with him, the majestic dragon a good friend to her, but still grateful that the Varden's rider returned.  
"Eragon requests an audience with you, Lady Nightstalker."

"Allow him in. And next time, do not ask. He is my second in command, and such tidings are unnecessary."

"Ah, Lady Nightstalker, with all due respect to you and Shadeslayer, he is…different now." Nasuada worried about what that meant. She anxiously waited for the pair of flaps on the front of the chrysalis tent to open.

Yes, the grey-skinned Kull spoke true. This man, who vaguely looked like the serious yet joyful boy she had come to know and befriend, stood before her, with his red and gold tunic completely disorganized in a soaked, ruffled manner. His face was similarly imperceptible, with his hair splayed all over his head and bags under his bloodshot eyes prominent. His scraped right hand clutched at the still-gleaming sword hung on a lopsided belt studded with various gems. For a moment, she compared him to what his cousin, Roran, looked like when the Dragon Wing had arrived and she personally met the villagers, but she could not even smile at the thought, for this was urgent, as the expression on Eragon's disfigured face suggested.

"Yes…Eragon?" She was surprised at even herself, for hesitating to call him his own name.

"I come only to gather the dozen spellcasters Queen Islanzadi has assigned to me and to report my leave for Gil'ead. I must join the elves, for Murtagh has contacted me with a plan that relies on me to do so."

"Murtagh, you say?"

"Yes, Murtagh. My half-brother. He has shared to me his plot to free himself. And, of course, I have to help him, if only because he is my only way of freeing Saphira. In fact, she came up with the plan. Do not worry of me; I only cannot relate to you this mentioned ploy because it is so elaborate."

"But must you? You are the greatest asset in the Varden's disposal. Losing you would do horribly to the people's morale."

He leaned over the desk, his hand placed on the wood to support him."With the elves, I cannot be lost. Do not worry about spies in the Varden that might exploit my absence; I came here with stealth, and I can go out the same. It will only take a few days. Have you lost hope in me? I think not. Do not worry."

"Then, at least, is there any way I can help you, Eragon? For truly, I do want Murtagh and your dragon freed as much as you do."

"No. The only way you can help me is by letting me take the supplies I already have, and by allowing me to leave. Now."

"Then go, Shadeslayer, at your will. May your journey be one of good luck." And with that, the Blue Rider left.

* * *

**There. My chapters are shortening, but only because I switched perspectives repeatedly in the past few pages. I'll probably send longer ones when my POVs are given more time to be written about. **

**Thank you to my reviewers, readers and iPrae for keeping this story afloat in the lake (I don't think it's big enough to be a sea…) of Inheritance Cycle fanfictions.**

**Please review; I'd like to know what people think about these short chapters and how I could improve them in ANY way. **

**For those of you who don't write in FF, there are two basic types of reviews. Negative and positive. A negative review helps the author write better. A positive review motivates the author, but does not necessarily lead to a better story. And there's long reviews and short reviews. Long ones, either negative or positive, help a hell of a lot. Short reviews…well…they're like eating a really good piece of chocolate – it feels nice, but the feeling doesn't last for long. There, that should help you decide how to review! I think…**


	8. Discussion

Eragon trudged on from the crimson tent to his own, the grey one that he was directed to before the battle. His elves' temporary dwellings surrounded his, and Blodhgarm still stood on guard of his room. He reached out into Blodhgarm's mind, which was blocked well. He waited as the blue furred elf lowered his barriers. Immediately, he sent images of his location and status, for he was still invisible from a spell. The elf did not question why he was so, but rather asked, _Argetlam, you return. _They did not bother with the traditional elven greeting, for Eragon, and through his emotions being channelled through their temporary mind link, Blodhgarm, knew the situation was dire.

_Gather the other elves, Blodhgarm, for we must depart for your kin in Gil'ead. The Red Rider calls me there, giving me an infallible plan of escape, and we must go to him. In the meantime, I need to take care of business._

_As you wish, Shadeslayer. I follow and do not question. I will meet you on the north gate of Feinster._

Blodhgarm left his post at the entrance, allowing Eragon to enter and take his equipment.

Then he remembered – Master Glaedr. He opened his consciousness within his tent, searching for the Eldunari. At last, he found his master's looming thoughts, within the pack his armor usually was. It remained unsettled, though. Would the Eldunari be of use of him?

_Ebrithil?_

_Eragon, I sense something is amiss. _He was relieved.

_Yes, Master, for me. As you have lost your Rider, which I am deeply sorry for, I have lost my dragon._

_Saphira is dead?!_

_No, she was captured by Murtagh and Thorn, which is why I disturb you in your time of rest, Master. It is urgent – I must go to the elves, for Murtagh has told me of a cunning plan to free himself and Thorn, courtesy of Saphira. If he does, I will have a chance to free my dragon, in turn._

_What is this plan you speak of?_

_Ah, Master, there is no time. I must get to the elves as fast as I can, for Murtagh's plot requires the elves' power. I will tell you on the journey. That is, if you are willing to come. I will understand if you do not._

_Yes, I will come. I fear that two of the newly hatched dragons – Saphira and Thorn – are at stake here. It would be too great of an advantage of having two live dragons on the Varden's side to simply let the opportunity pass._

_Then let us go. Have you anything that you may believe useful that I should bring?_

_No, other than your sword and your mind._

_Alright, then, master. But I have one more portion of the plan which requires your consent…_

**Blargh, another short chapter. Don't blame me; the next chapter is ANOTHER POV change, and another short chapter. Next one will be my first Murtagh POV, though I've done a bunch with Thorn POV. **

**Is this counted as a cliffy? Maybe. Who knows?**

**I think I put the "negative reviews are good" thing too highly, that somebody took it as far as apologizing for making a positive review. Positive reviews are awesome still. Keep reviewing!**

**Wow, I got a review from my favorite Thorn/Saphira writer! Awesome!**

**Again, thank you, reviewers and beta reader.**


	9. Complications

_Crap, Thorn._

_So _thought Murtagh as he readied Thorn's saddle. His plate armor was already worn, and under it, mail. Zar'roc gleamed a faint scarlet streak on the somber black walls of the dragonhold, the one in which he had scryed Eragon. Thorn, his dragon and friend that never ceased to amaze him with his wild, striking appearance, shone a brighter overlapping wine red as he shifted with discomfort.

Finished, Thorn responded, _we can only hope Eragon is still in Surda._

_I have seen him run. I have seen elves run. None can go so fast as to cross the breadth of Alagaesia in one day. So, yes, we will still cross paths with him._

_Unless he took the Spine as a route to the elves. We'll be going straight to Surda to attack it, while he'll be going on a curved road at eastern sea._

_Ah, then, only luck we can depend on now. Worry not, little one, we will be freed sooner or later._

Murtagh put an Eldunari in each of the eight packs on the side of Thorn's saddle. A viridian one came into the last case at the back, where Murtagh's legs would be strapped on either side. He did so, climbing onto the dark brown saddle, and waited as Thorn took off towards the Varden.

Murtagh watched the black castle, Uru'baen, and the green plains, give way to the barren yellow that surrounded the lush, yet still particularly dry area that was Surda. They flew on, passing Dras-leona and Helgrind, the Gates of Death. And there, in the distance, came Feinster.

Their orders were simple: wreak as much havoc to the city while the soldiers amassing at Belatona marched onto it. Their distraction would provide an element of surprise, though Murtagh still hated the prospect of it. It proved that they were next to naught with the king – merely a tool that was slightly greater than the rest of his army.

_Get ready, Thorn._

_Ah, you should be the one to prepare yourself – My only job is fight._ Murtagh did so, and extended his consciousness towards the Eldunari. Among them were eight great corrupted minds, full of energy. Energy he could use. Use to help the Varden, if they were freed.

"The Red Rider approaches!" A man on the walls shouted amongst the wall of archers at the tower. The back side of Feinster, still intact from the battle, readied its ballistae. The obvious frantic surge of movement was heard even from the sky – Murtagh and Thorn were not expected.

He quickly dispatched the man with his mind, and Thorn swooped down upon the north edge. He breathed fire on the open gates, though the yellow and crimson flame was blocked by an invisible shield. His dragon ceased the fire, removing his hold from the energy… and Eragon emerged with thirteen elves.

**Haha, another short. Again, it's not that I like short ones, it's that during actiony sequences, I find changing perspectives a lot makes the writing more jerky and more actiony. Also, I want to show the readers what two or more people are thinking during actiony times.**

**No more Saphira or Thorn POVs, eh? Don't worry, two Saphira chapters will come later, but no Thorn or Murtagh ones, sorry.**

**Is this a cliffy? Maybe. I bet it is a cliffy. It was more of a cliffy than the previous one. So then it is a cliffy, since the previous one was sort of a cliffy. Then again, maybe the previous one was not too much of a cliffy, and this one is just sort of a cliffy. So, wait if this is a cliffy, then I…**

**Yay, plan complication. What is Eragon gonna do?**

**I thank my beta reader, my readers, etc…blah..blah…**

**The title was about to be "Crap, Thorn" because of the title suggestion thingy, but then I thought that it would ruin the serious-ity of my story.**


	10. Convergence

"The plan does not go well, half-brother! We must attack, or Galbatorix will kill us!"

Eragon stared at the red dragon as his hope trickled away…until he remembered the plan they had formulated with Master Glaedr. But would it work? Would it take too much energy? Ah, there was no choice…

"Wait, brother! We can free you now! We have a plan!" The elves showed a slight disagreement, but did not verbally express it.

"Really now? A plan that would require so little energy that you only need thirteen elves and one Eldunari to accomplish? Come, now, half-brother, that is impossible. We must attack, or Galbatorix will punish us. There is no freedom for me right now, half-brother. Just run, or we will have to capture you."

"Wait!" But Thorn was about to breathe fire again, and they were still too dazed to cast another proper fire barrier, especially against the great fire the red dragon breathed…

Hurriedly, he drew energy from the thirteen elves, including Arya, who had come there, and yelled in the ancient language, letting his voice combine with his intentions…

"Eïnradhin-manin aurboda!" It was a crudely pronounced small set of words, not even compiled into a proper sentence, but nonetheless encircled his entire spell while being directed by his mind. His legs gave way with the sudden burst of energy, along with the elves that he barely saw at the tip of his field of vision, and fell unconscious.

* * *

"Half-brother, awake! We are freed!" Eragon's vision flickered slightly before returning to the darkness it once was. He was still aware of his surroundings. A man who he was sure was Murtagh shook him. He heard him stand up, with his acute elfin senses. He opened his eyes slightly, enough to see Murtagh calling for two of Varden soldiers to help him, and his consciousness faded once again.

* * *

"Shadeslayer, awake."

Avoice, unmistakably Angela's, was heard. Clinking of metal armor resonated in his ears as the witch entered. He opened his eyes, revealing to himself his grey tent he was now used to.

"Armor, Angela?" he inquired, still completely oblivious of the situation.

"Yes, armor. What else do you want me to protect myself with?" her amusement was eminent, somewhat annoying Eragon.

"No, I mean, what is the armor for?"

"Ah, that is the right question. You see, two thousand soldiers came upon the city in an attempt to recapture it. They seemed to expect the Red Rider had already begun the invasion. Of course, we won, with Murtagh and Thorn on our side and not their's. All the while, you were sleeping comfortably in your bed," explained Angela.

He stood. "How long have I been unconscious? Where are the elves?"

"A day, Eragon. And how nice of you to care about others. They are also in their respective tents, and Varden guards are posted there. Worry not; turmoil is over for now. Now go and meet your half-brother again." She smiled and left the tent, as he watched the flaps swing about. He strapped on the Belt of Beloth the Wise again, with the sword already attached, and also walked out.

Angela was already out of sight, and Thorn, still unfamiliar to his usual sights, made him clutch his sword and pull it out halfway. His mind then moved on from its hazy half-conscious state, and he relaxed. Murtagh sat beside him, removing the saddle from his crimson dragon.

"Hm. I see the Varden has finally allowed you to stay, Murtagh."

"Most of it, at least, Eragon."

"Murtagh."

"Eragon."

"Murtagh."

"Era-"

"What the hell do you want?!" burst out Eragon, and they shared a good laugh.

"Ah, it's good to be free once again, half-brother. But tell me, how did you manage to free me?"

"It all went like this…"

**HAHAHA I TORTURE YOU WITH EPIC CLIFFY**

**And Nick, no offense, but I take it that you are a new Fanfictioner. The "I don't own the [insert name of genre here]" is often used by writers such as I as a precaution and disclaimer so, y'know, we don't get sued. And of course Wildskysong (writer of Eldunari) is a better writer than I. He's like, a pro FFer, and has written several stories. Yes, there are many stories titled "Eldunari," for all those of you who know about that, but Nick has probably seen the newest and most recently updated one.**

**OH, and for those of you who are thinking, with the second sentence at the top of this chapter, "Hey, Galby won't actually kill Murtagh and Thorn!" Well, I just said that because it adds effect with the urgency of Murtagh's situation.**

**Look up the Ancient Language words on Inheriwiki if you don't know what they mean.**

**There's my crude attempt at humor. Wasn't it awful?**

**Yeah, sure, Murtagh was accepted into the Varden pretty fast. I had actually written an entire chapter about his acceptance into the Varden, but I found it unnecessary, since, y'know, we all know that Nasuada wouldn't just turn away a dragon rider, even if it was against her people's will. JUST ACKNOWLEDGE THAT HE WAS ACCEPTED, OKAY? And this chapter was meant just for a little meeting with Eragon and Murtagh, the previously sworn enemies and now friends once more. That's why there aren't very many people involved other than Murtagh and Eragon in this chapter. Sorry if you found this chapter a bit weird.**


	11. Freedom

-----------**Three hours before Murtagh's coming, a flashback (Chapter 8)--------**

_...Which requires your consent. _

_What exactly is this?_

_We need a spell to prevent Galbatorix from keeping control of Murtagh and Thorn._

_Ah, poor planning on your part – You should have thought of this earlier._

_Yes, I know…but Master, the plan came by unsuspected, and I had little time to think about it._

_I understand, Eragon, so let us begin._

_Let's. Now, were there ever any instances that magic prevented true names from being known?_

_None that I know of, unless…_

_Unless?_

_You know this, Eragon. The Banishing of Names._

Slow realization came, and Master Glaedr's point developed the spark of a plan. _Of course! Yes, that would work…but we cannot accomplish that. Your race is much more powerful than any other in terms of magic. How do you propose we do this?_

_The answer may lie in the Ancient Language itself. Tell me, how many dragons had their names banished?_

_Thirteen._

_And how many names were there?_

_Many. And not only names, their entire personalities were banished from the minds of all…and that contained thousands of words…_

_Ah, do you see it now?_

_No, I do not…_

_How many beings' true names do you have to remove?_

_Two, instead of thirteen…_

_And from how many people's minds?_

_One…I understand! Magnificent! So if I remove one word from each of their true names, and make only Galbatorix forget and never remember or know them, no matter what, he will never be able to devise a spell that would control them, since he'll always forget a small portion of it! And the energy it would take would be so small that few would need to participate in the spell, and Galbatorix would not notice...Thank you, Master Glaedr!_

_Yes, it is my pleasure, student. Now speak not and go – you must hurry before the Red Rider comes for you._

----------------**End of Flashback----------------**

Murtagh stared at him, showing surprise even while he attempted to hide it through his mask of no feeling. "Ingenious! I would have never thought of that. I don't think even Galbatorix would have expected that." His straight face betrayed his feelings, but his voice made his astonishment more evident.

"Now is not the time to be too joyful, Murtagh. Though I am glad that you and Thorn have been freed…have you forgotten _your _side of the deal?" Eragon's expression immediately shifted into a serious one – an almost _distrusting _temper.

He sighed. "No, I have not, half-brother. But can you not allow the two of us to relax?"

Eragon's slanted eyebrows met. "Alright, half-brother. I will allow you to rest. But, and you must agree to this – two days. Two days, Murtagh. Two days to enjoy your release."

"Two days. Alright, half-brother. Now what do we do?"

"Catch up on the times."

"Ah, yes… Here's a question that's been distracting me often since the Burning Plains. What _happened _to you?"

"You mean, why do I look like this?"

"Exactly."

Eragon looked up at the sky dreamily, recalling that incident. He then stared at Murtagh and said, "I cannot tell you…yet. Do you swear that you will never tell anybody else unless I or another elf allows you?"

"Vel eïnradhin iet ai Shur'tugal."

"You seem to use this oath much." It was, though, Eragon thought, the most effective thing Murtagh could say.

"It's the only one I know is real."

"Forgive me, half-brother. I am too expectant of your knowledge in the Ancient Language." And now, Eragon asked to the red dragon, almost nervously, "And you, Thorn?"

A distinctly male presence came upon his mind, one that was much different to Saphira's mind, which he was used to, and still varying from Glaedr's conciousness, being much younger than the elder dragon. _I know not of any oaths a dragon such as I can swear, Shadeslayer, but know that I do promise so, upon the honor of my race. _Satisfied, Eragon proceeded to narrate the Agaeti Blodhren to the other Rider.

When he finished, Murtagh did show interest – Murtagh's expressions were one aspect that Eragon noticed much. He had very rarely seen him react as much as he was now. It seemed, too, that Murtagh could not decide what to make of this. Instead, he inquired, "Would you consider this the elves' doing or the dragons'?"

"I have never really thought about it, but you bring up an interesting topic. I would consider it of both races', the elves gave life to the ethereal being that did this to me, but the dragons controlled it. And MasterGlaedr said – ah, Master Glaedr. Have you already met him?" He forgot the elder dragon often now, since he was now but an Eldunari. A powerful Eldunari, yes, but nonetheless just a rock in a backpack. (A/N: "Shadebusters" by "The Green Pilgrim" quote!)

"Yes, I have…and the experience was not among the best meetings I have had. I hoped one so old, one as Glaedr and Oromis, could help me. I hoped they could free me from my slavery. Then I killed them. With my own hands…I feel so _dirty, _Eragon." He paused, clearly overwhelmed by what he had just related.

"No. You did not kill him. That bastard Galbatorix did, by controlling your mind. And remember, they did help you – Master Glaedr provided the base idea of my plot. Now…would you like to meet him in less hostile circumstances?" Eragon comforted, though he was also angry, in some way, at Murtagh and Thorn.

"Yes…no…I don't know. Let's just get it over with." Murtagh was struggling with his own emotions, and Eragon watched as Thorn nuzzled his back.

"Alright…if he will accept." Eragon reached into his pack, which he had left just outside of his tent, and revealed Glaedr's golden Eldunari. _Master, the Red Rider is here. We have freed him, and he wishes to speak with you._

Hesitation was apparent from the elder dragon's mind, but soon logic and curiosity took over. _Allow him. I do want to learn more about him and his dragon. _Eragon shrugged and tossed his pack onto the dusty ground in front of the sitting Murtagh and his dragon curled up behind him. He strode towards them, and placed the Eldunari on the soft leather.

Kneeling, he gestured for Murtagh to extend his consciousness towards the elder dragon. Reluctantly, Murtagh leaned back against Thorn and relaxed. Eragon watched in silence, for neither would broadcast their thoughts towards Eragon. He made no attempt to join in; he knew the two would rather converse without disturbance.

After only a short moment, which was the average amount of time that a high-speed mind conversation took, Murtagh smiled, only a slight movement of his mouth, closed his eyes, and sighed. This indicated the meeting was over. "He…forgives me." In his voice a hint of relief was eminent. Eragon smirked as well.

So on the day went by similarly, as Eragon and Murtagh discussed their respective adventures. Eragon did now understand Murtagh's suffering within Uru'baen, and what the Red Rider had done there. In turn, Murtagh learned of Eragon's journey about Alagaesia, and how sorrowful he was of Saphira's loss. They had been apart before, but now it was…_different. _

**There ya go. There's my plan. Part of this story's purpose is to introduce this new concept. Yeah, I know, there are a lot of holes in it, but only because I was too lazy to make explanations for them. If you do happen to find a hole, tell me and I'll explain.**

**The words from the previous chapter mean "Word-memory banish." It was going to be "name-memory" until I realized that Eragon was making Galbatorix forget a single word in Murtagh's and Thorn's true names. A **_**word, **_**not a name. Yes, it is a crude word collaboration, but that's only because Eragon was in a tight situation where he had to say something fast. Or because I didn't really wanna construct a sentence.**

**Oh, this chapter is partially dedicated to Sinitar, either because he just happened to be around when my writing inspiration came back or he actually had a part in inspiring me. Yeah, he didn't help me with this chapter, but I had to give him **_**some **_**credit in my story. Yes, I have begun writing again, if only a little.**

**Uh...and Nat, please don't multipost. Just make a single long review at the chapter you stopped reading at and divide it into several sections for each chapter. I'd rather have a nice quality review than a bunch of short reviews. I understand that you probably just started the story. Thank you.**


	12. Return

"…So, here, we'll pass, along Leona Lake. Your dragon is held there, behind Helgrind, in a smaller cave." It was the second day. The glee from both Riders'faces had disappeared, though Murtagh still had thoughts from yesterday. Thorn peeked between both the Rider's shoulders, as he considered the plans the Riders, and a particularly furry blue elf, were making above the map of the country.

_How do you suppose we cross the Jiet River? _asked Thorn, finally participating in the conversation.

"That's what we need you for. You can carry three, right?"

_Do you doubt my strength? _he snorted, warming the hands of the three.

"No, I do not. And so, afterwards, we split up with Thorn, so nobody notices us…" The planning continued, as Thorn watched.

* * *

Saphira curled up once again, watching the black dragon marching across the entrance of the cave. He, no, _it _occasionally shifted its eyes towards her, and resumed pacing.

Yes, she had tried to free herself. Yes, she had tried to convince Shruikan to let her go. This was to no avail. The black dragon, though as majestic as any other, had the mind of an _animal, _and was not intelligent enough to do anything other than follow Galbatorix's orders to keep her from escaping. The orders, she discovered, were perfectly implanted into that mostly empty skull of his, and he would stop at nothing to complete it, other than threat of certain death. It was easy to get into its thoughts, as if the dark king did not care if she did. There was nothing else useful in it, though. She was saddened at the waste of a great dragon's consciousness.

She sighed once more, for she had naught to do but look around and, from time to time, pick at the remains of her previous meal. She was given food, always drugged this time, but she could not resist eating after the three days before she had been held captive. This was the fourth day after Thorn had left, and she hoped the red dragon was already freed.

She was weakening. Shruikan did not give her much, only small does that were scraggly and thin. She did not move, for surely Shruikan would stop her with his powerful fire that she could not match, and since she did not want to waste energy. She wondered if Galbatorix knew how the last female dragon of the world was being treated…

She closed her eyes, since she knew she could preserve energy by sleeping. Before her consciousness faded, she though, _Eragon, where are y – _

Her thoughts went alert as another consciousness entered her mind. She could not understand who it was, though. It was a humanoid, coming from her right, probably from Leona Lake. But no humanoid was powerful enough to enter her mind, for it was blocked so well that only one person was allowed into it other than herself…unless…

_Eragon! _She spoke outwards with her mind. Shruikan glared at her, but seemed to dismiss it as only her desperation to be freed. She realized her mistake only now because of the drugs given to her, and was relieved that Shruikan did not take the mental shout as something to be conscious of.

_Yes, Saphira. Me. _It was apparent as to why Eragon said so little; her Rider, and of course, her, were overcome by their joy. It took Saphira all her will to hold herself from roaring out in glee. She placed her paws in front of her head so that Shruikan could not see her face.

A roar was heard from her right. Shruikan trudged outside and looked to the right. Distracted, a shadow crept past him – probably Eragon invisible again. Two more shadows, one clearly a furry being, moved against the cavern wall. Her front body, the one Shruikan could see if he turned around, was left unmoving. As the three shadows closed in around her, she jerked her right leg, indicating the chain which bound her. Immediately, two of the shadows, who they were she did not know, advanced towards the rusty metal harness. A few inaudible words were heard from behind her, and the rattling of broken steel upon rock as the loop broke from Saphira's thigh alerted Shruikan. He twisted his head around, a suspicious look in his silver eyes, and a flash of red pounced on him. He, along with the flash of red that was apparently Thorn, slammed against the wall. Shruikan easily countered with his hind legs, but not before Saphira could come closer. She bit his long, slender tail and ripped a four-foot chunk from its side. The ebony dragon roared in pain as she proceeded to drive her claws into his right flank. She was swatted away with a simple swipe of his right arm, and landed on the end of the long cave. Luckily, Shruikan perceived the encounter as a threat to his life, and he winged away, blood trickling along his path.

Saphira was only able to see just that though, as her head quickly descended. She did not notice her vision going hazy and her body limping slightly, until her head fell on the floor, knocking her unconscious.

**Yup, sorry, all you fans/readers for not updating last week. I got sick on Saturday morning and only had the strength to go on the computer at around 3:30 p.m. At that time, I would have wasted an update; too many people would be updating at the same time, and I would have barely gotten any time at the top of the list. It's all part of my strategy of getting as many hits and reviews as I can per chapter/update. So, y'know, I had to wait until this week.**

**It's another short chapter, but longer than usual. It's actiony, and hence, I had to make it short and fast. Be happy.**

**I'd like to thank iPrae and all those reading this. It's been a while since I did that. Yes. Oh, and read iPrae's story. It's actually really good - probably better than mine, in my opinion, though it is fairly short, since she hasn't updated in a while.**

**I told my betareader (iPrae) that there was a chapter that I was going to name "We Meet Again-" I think it was the one when Eragon talked to Murtagh by scrying. Yes - in my rush to submit, I named the chapter wrong - I spent about ten minutes coming up with "We Meet Again," and it's probably a better title than the one now. Yeah. Now I'll go replace the name. :)**

**I don't really have much more to say, mostly because I've forgotten all I wanted to say. Oh, and you may notice my writing quality degrade. Yes, I've been talking about this horrid time for a while now, and at this point, the fact becomes more noticeable and prominent within my writing. I think.**


	13. Still Stuck

Saphira awoke once more. She studied her surroundings. Still she was in the cave. Something was still wrapped around her leg. Then she remembered what happened two hours ago, or so she observed from looking at the sun. She looked behind her, and saw a bandage on her thigh in place of the chain. Relieved, she searched for Eragon, both with her mind and her eyes. First she noticed that his mind seemed to be mostly shut off, which did not worry her because he was probably just sleeping. Then she saw her actual Rider's form – Murtagh sat beside him, tending his wounds as he leaned against the wall with his eyes closed. There was a large gash on his right arm, and his half-brother was wrapping a cloth around it. His skin on the left side of his face was scratched and bloody, and although it was only a shallow graze, not even reaching to his eyes, it was a gruesome sight. Murtagh, after putting on the bandage and creating a splint, healed Eragon's cheek partially – around the eyes, but not on the nose to the chin. Without hesitation, she reached into Murtagh's mind, already familiar, and channelled energy into him. She did not expect such a loss of energy, but allowed more until she was exhausted. He used the extra reserves to repair the skin and part of the muscle of Eragon's arm, which was bleeding too badly under the cloth to give no magical attention. Murtagh, without a word, thanked Saphira by nodding at her and slumped beside Eragon, exhausted. She looked at her other side, and noticed Blodhgarm similarly positioned. The dark-haired elf was hard to notice in such lighting.

Saphira glanced once more at the cavern entrance. Thorn was leaning on the side of it, half sitting and half standing. He was staring outside, seemingly alert.

_Blood-scale?_

He twisted his head towards her, acknowledging her presence. _Water-scale._

_Are we freed?_

_Yes and no. Yes, being I was freed with my rider and in turn emancipated you, and no, being we are stuck in this cave until your wing is no longer broken. _He spoke true. Her left wing, now that she moved it, was twisted and bent almost to a right angle in one spot. She snorted as a sliver of pain rode up the wing tip to the wing joint. She laid it on her left flank and curled up once again at the back of the cave.

_This bone won't meld itself fast enough. Galbatorix will come at our doorstep probably later today. Can you get your Rider to heal me?_

_Murtagh and that furry elf are tired. Eragon is incapacitated. You gave Murtagh your energy. That leaves me… but if I use my energy, I will be the one unable to fly. However, now that you are awake, I can leave to hunt. Will you be able to guard our Riders?_

_Likely so, but not for long. Return soon. I am wounded too badly to fight well._

Thorn tipped his head, as if to nod, and ever so familiarly leapt off the cliff extension, leaving her to think alone.


	14. Flight

Eragon cringed as his body jerked slightly.

His eyes opened, but he could barely see anything. Pain shot up his bandaged right arm once again. He groaned.

"Finally, you're awake! We have to _go!" _Murtagh's voice resonated in his ears. He turned to look at him. Murtagh knelt beside him, with Saphira behind him, eyeing him anxiously. He smiled at her wearily.

"S-Saphira…?"

Murtagh turned. "Yes, her. Blast it – stand up, Eragon, lest we all die because of your drowsiness!" His half-brother helped him up, lifting his uninjured arm. Leaning against the cavern wall, he slowly stood. As his cheek made contact with the rock, he turned his head involuntarily. Pain came across his face. Yet another wound, he told himself.

After finally standing enough to walk, Murtagh carried him to Saphira's saddle. She crouched, allowing Eragon to clamber up her leg and onto his seat. Murtagh strapped his legs and arms in as Eragon stopped himself from flinching. After a moment, Eragon slowly realized what was happening. They were leaving from the cave. Habitually, he looked around to see if everything was in order. Brisingr was in his lap. His pack weighted his shoulders. Master Glaedr's Eldunari was not brought, for if anyone scanned the area of the cave for consciousnesses, his would be detected, since Eldunarya could not shield their minds.

He finished his list of items right when Saphira, along with Thorn, who had Murtagh and Blodhgarm on his back, took off. Air blasted along the sides of his face, causing him to wince because of his cheek. He twisted his head to the left and closed his right eye so that wind could be diverted from his grazed face. Afterwards, he reached into Saphira's energy, which seemed to be strengthened by a previous meal, and healed his cheek. He waited as an impossibly itchy sensation came over his entire face, and looked into one of Saphira's scales. His face was completely the same as before this whole predicament started, and before the siege of Feinster – he had unintentionally healed his entire face. Satisfied with the results of such a small amount of energy loss, he began mind-speaking with Saphira.

_Satisfied?_

Saphira was clearly startled when he spoke, but she answered straight. _Of course, partner of mind and heart. Are you?_

_You know as well as I do that our emotions about each other are the same. Always._

_Yes, I know. I just noticed that neither of us had any conversational topics, and that would lead to an awkward pause. _He smiled, and she chuckled deep in her throat.

From Eragon's left, Murtagh shouted, "Where to, Eragon?" They were above the forest, and able to speak freely.

"The elves. It is too risky for us to return to the Varden with Galbatorix about to chase us." Eragon yelled back across the air, trying to compensate for the noise created by the extreme speeds of the wind.

"Where are they now? Would you know of the movement of the elven army?"

"Most of them should be in Gil'ead, since a portion of it went for Daret. We shall fly to the city. More elves are probably there."

"Agreed, half-brother. Then we can visit your old prison, eh?" hejoked, though Eragon did not find it too funny. He furrowed his eyebrows slightly as he recalled those days when he did not eat or drink at all in that foul, overcrowded prison.

He countered, "But on the way, might we visit your father's castle? Much I'd like to see there!" Murtagh, as expected, showed his discontent as he remembered his childhood years that Eragon knew about.

Thorn interrupted, _I'm sorry, I just find it mildly annoying how you two are attempting to create humour while neither of you are telling your dragons where to go, especially while about to be pursued by one of the strongest people on the face of Alagaesia._

Murtagh raised his eyebrow at the ruby dragon. Broadcasting his thoughts to all three, he responded, _Gil'ead, Thorn! I'm sure you could have simply searched my mind or listened to us more profusely were you not having a 'lovely little conversation' with Saphira over there!_

_Please, Rider, Water-scale and I are merely friends._

'_Friends…' _Murtagh repeated, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Breaking up the pair's argument, Eragon inquired, _Water-scale?_

Saphira replied, turning her head so that her eye could see Eragon, and Eragon could see the smirk on her face, _Ah, I have not told you that yet, have I, Eragon? I apologize for not doing so, but as I said before of other matters, there was no need to. You see, Blood-scale and I did know each other before we hatched – we were able to communicate by some means through telepathy within our eggs. Naught did we have for names, but upon searching through people's minds, we knew at least our basic colors – blue and red. Hence, we designated each other 'Water-scale', for my glistening sapphire appearance, and 'Blood-scale,' for his blood-like crimson red. For over a decade we called each other that, so be not surprised that we still continue so._

Murtagh asked, _But what of the green egg? What did you call him?_

She paused. _We did not call him anything but "the other" within our conversations. We did not even know his color, and we never met him. He was kept elsewhere, for the mad king had a particular thought for the egg, though we did not, and still do not, know what it was._

Nobody said anything else. For a moment, Eragon attempted to restart the conversation between the four, but he was just content to be with his dragon. He cared for naught right now, and just listened tothe wind rush through his face. He looked to his right – Murtagh and Blodhgarm sat on Thorn's back. Allowing his gaze to flitter from anywhere his head happened to turn, he looked at Thorn. He had not observed the ruby dragon in a while, since the Burning Plains, but immediately he noticed something – his scales were slightly darker color. No, they were not darker. It seemed that his scales were becoming more iridescent. From his perspective, it did appear darker. It must have been being freed from the curse set upon him. Maybe Galbatorix dulled his scales' sheen, making the blood red dragon more intimidating. Many more reasons came to his mind, but he allowed his gaze to drift elsewhere.

But never to the black silhouette hovering far behind them, watching.

**And there ya go. I didn't update last weekend because I forgot….so sorry about that!**

**Hm. Haven't written a chapter this long in a while now.**

**I bet a buck that a lot of you have come up with a lot of questions about my plot. I'll try to answer all of them, provided that they won't give spoilers when they are supplied with a response.**

**So, anyway, I have forgotten about Fanfiction and this story because of a crappy little flash-based browser MMO called "Dead Frontier." It's really bad, but I love it anyway. The same way the InheriCycle is really bad but I love it anyway.**

**Sorry for not putting an A/N for the previous chapter – I was rushing the entire thing because I woke up a bit too late to update at the right time.**

**Awkwardness? Tips? Comments? Anything else related to the story? Review. Thank you for all the reviews – I've almost reached 5 per chapter!**

**Lulz, this chapter is where I forget a lot of aspects. Just ask if you see something awkward or forgotten.**

**Oh – and one more thing – I need a new beta reader! I need a male beta reader this time – iPrae is already providing input from the female gender, but I have none from a male. is kinda confusing me if he wants to or not, so the status is still open.**


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